


an atheist learns to pray

by literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Cult Ending, Human Sacrifice, M/M, Murder, POV Second Person, Succubi & Incubi, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 01:18:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11635941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte/pseuds/literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte
Summary: What urge will save us now that sex won’t?





	an atheist learns to pray

**Author's Note:**

> _Maybe you found the moon sun-lit in black_   
>  _space or gazed at Saturn’s blue-red-gold prism._   
>  _Slow warmth in an empty universe, light_   
>  _became your daily bread, night a starry_   
>  _sacrifice. The way darkness paints and blots_   
>  _havoc. We always return to beauty_   
>  _after the abyss, bruised and cold, learning_   
>  _that a rose open to May is unburdened._   
>  _Why not swing our hips and sway as leaves chime_   
>  _to dawn. One learns from children, a dog’s thick_   
>  _ribbed breath, one drinks water and the sky._   
>  _Blessed be the way caught among showers,_   
>  _the sun later rising like a man listening to god._
> 
>  
> 
> "An Atheist Learns to Pray" by Sheryl Luna.

Three in the morning. You wake to radio static, to the wet gurgling of the man next door as he vomits into the toilet. This hotel has thin walls. You hear him flush, get up, almost make it back to bed and then rush back into the bathroom to puke again.

Joseph is asleep, you think. You don’t know for sure. He’s good at pretending. Just in case, you try and make as little noise as possible when you get out of bed.

You fiddle with the dials of the radio, catching pieces of conversation interrupted by 80s synth and the occasional twang of a guitar. Finally the radio dies.

Joseph twitches. You pause, hand in mid-air, breathing shallowly, until your muscles start to cramp. He doesn't move again.

You step carefully towards the window and peek through the blinds at the half-empty parking lot. In the dark, it’s hard to tell where the ground begins and the sky ends. Everything is black and shapeless like the bottom of a pool.

A shadow moves against the wall and disappears into a doorway. Dogs in the distance bark at nobody in particular. The light from the glowing VACANCY sign catches in the dirty puddles and on the windows of Robert’s truck.

You think about how much gas costs in the next state over. And how much farther you need to drive. He tells you not to worry, but you’re a father. It’s your job to always worry.

Amanda’s face flashes behind your eyes but you bury the thought of her quickly. She’s in college and she’s fine - safe, without you. She thinks you’re still on the St. Peter and halfway to Costa Rica. Drinking margaritas and eating shrimp.

Her last words to you were about how sorry she feels for Joseph and how she hopes you two have a good time together.

“You deserve it, dad,” she said, “after everything. So does he.”

You glance at Joseph, at the outline of his body under the blankets. The man in the room besides yours is quiet now. You tip-toe towards the bathroom, watching Joseph. He’s motionless except for the slow rise and fall of his chest. 

You open the bathroom door and a wave of heat slams into you. The smell of saltwater and smoke. The sound of skin slapping skin and fire cracking its knuckles. It makes you nauseous and aroused in equal measure.

You shut the door. Joseph is sitting upright and staring at you.

“Come back to bed,” he says.

His teeth are very white. In perfect rows like a picket fence.

“Is it almost time?”

He repeats, “Come back to bed.”

And you do. You can never say no to him.

When you wake up, you go into the bathroom to piss, shower, brush your teeth. It smells like bleach. The room next door is empty.

Robert’s truck takes a while to start, grumbling like an old man as it slowly wakes up. The roads are veiled in fog and it’s so thick that it feels like being inside of God.

Today it’s his turn to drive. The radio plays _In the Air Tonight_ and you and Joseph almost get into a wreck when the drums hit. When it’s over he laughs and says your moves have improved.

You want to drink his laughter. You want to swallow it like fire. Instead you kiss him at a stop light and it’s better than being burned alive.

Joseph takes you to the nearest diner. You would forget to eat most of the time without him there to remind you. The waitress is a young woman who reminds you of Amanda, except she has longer hair.

Something inside you aches.

She brings your food with a smile and you make a mental note to tip her extra, even though the coffee is the worst you’ve had since you left Maple Bay. You drink it anyway since you didn’t get much sleep.

“Did you eat last night?” you ask Joseph, picking at your eggs.

He looks at you. His eyes are very blue. “Yes, dear.”

“How was it?” Your voice is low and rough. “Was it good?”

He hums and stirs his water with the straw. He didn’t order anything to eat. Didn’t need to.

“Was it good for you?” you ask again.

You touch his thigh and he spreads his legs for you to slip your hand in the space between. You wonder if he could fit under the table and suck you off without being caught. He wraps his lips around the straw and you watch his throat bob as he drinks.

Joseph gets under your skin in a good way. The moment you first saw him, you wanted to know everything about him - how he laughs, how he cries, how he looks after sex, how he breathes when he’s sleeping.

It had to do with the way he held his hands and rubbed his thumb over his knuckles. Little things he could get away with in public that he knew would drive you crazy, like the tantalizing glimpses of his tattoo he indulged you with. And of course, all the red flags so big you could wrap a body in one.

Joseph catches your eye and licks his lips. He moves subtly against your hand.

Your head swims with visions of Joseph peeling off Robert’s flesh like the rind of a tangerine. Sucking it into his wet mouth. Letting the sweet juices run down his chin.

That was the first and last time he let you watch.

The waitress comes back to refill your coffee and you snatch your hand away, flushing with shame, as if Amanda just walked in on you naked. Joseph laughs under his breath.

The fog clears by the afternoon but the sky is still damp with grey and the sun is as small and white as a powdered donut. You drive until the inevitable caffeine crash, and then Joseph takes over when you claim that you’re “just resting my eyes.” You fall asleep for a couple hours and wake up to the sound of rain and Ozzy Osbourne.

Joseph turns it down when he sees you’re awake. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“What?” You rub your eyes. Joseph’s stuck in traffic in a town you don’t recognize. You’re used to waking up in strange places now.

“Looked like you were having a nightmare.”

“No, it was a good dream,” you say. “It was about Amanda.”

“Oh?”

“I can’t remember what happened.” Your head throbs and you want more coffee. “It’s gone. But it was nice.”

The cars in front of you start moving and Joseph follows. The radio cuts out for a second and the static sounds like how the choir echoes in church. The rain smudges all the lights into a wet blur on the windshield.

“Was it necessary?”

“What?” Joseph makes a right turn and you watch his hands move over the wheel. Your eyes are drawn to the tan line where his ring used to be.

“Your kids,” you say. “And Mary.”

“They didn’t suffer,” answers Joseph immediately. “They fulfilled their purpose. It was time to move on.”

“Mary suffered.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Shame. It was a nice house.”

“Yes. It was a nice house.”

“Made a nicer fire, huh?”

“Yes. It did.”

His knuckles are white on the steering wheel, but you keep pushing.

“Your kids weren’t human. Right? They weren’t human. So it doesn’t matter.”

Joseph is silent. Then he says, very softly, “Psalm 137:9.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Neither of you talk for the rest of the drive. Joseph finds a motel at the edge of town, although you insist you can drive while he sleeps.

As he’s turning the lock in the key, he suddenly turns to you and asks, “Would you like to watch?”

“What?”

He opens the door. The room is warm and dark like the inside of a mouth.

“Do you care that I killed Robert?”

You blink at him. “No, why?”

“You cared about Mary.”

“But Robert was... different. He knew about us.”

“So did Mary.”

“He could have stopped us.”

“So could Mary.”

He pulls you into the room and onto the bed. The mattress squeaks under your weight.

He settles between your legs and says, “Robert was different because I let you watch.”

“That's not -”

He unzips your pants and palms the bulge in your boxers. You reach down to grab his hair and he turns his face to you, eyes like two dark bruises.

“You want to watch me, don't you? Tell me.”

“I - I do. I want to watch.”

“You love me. Don't you?”

You suck in air between your clenched teeth when he licks over the outline of your cock. “More than anything.”

He stands up. “Good.” He walks towards the door and looks back at you. “I'll be back by midnight.”

You hide in the bathroom, lights off, with the door open just enough for you to stare through the crack. It rains throughout the night, like it did when Robert died. Heavier and heavier, until you feel like the ceiling is going to collapse under its weight.

You think about Robert’s eyes rolling back and meeting yours, the moment Joseph tore into his throat with his white, white teeth. You think about the water running from Robert’s slack mouth like the foam of a rabid animal.

His body was so wet. Water and cum and blood. Or was it wine? You can’t remember. It’s all the same now. The seats in his truck are still stained.

Joseph comes back hours late. Your hear the man’s voice before you see him. He’s nervous, but gentle. He stutters about how he usually doesn’t do things like this, and Joseph reassures him as he pushes him onto the bed.

He unbuckles his belt slowly, telling him how handsome he is, how he couldn’t resist him. Joseph kisses the man’s neck and the rain outside is like a biblical flood.

You watch the back of Joseph’s head move up and down as he sucks the man’s cock. Sloppy, spit-slick noises. Flashes of his pink tongue. Fingers curling in Joseph’s hair.

You can see Joseph touching himself and you do the same, as quietly as possible. The man mumbles something about how he's about to cum, but Joseph doesn’t stop.

You close your eyes. You know what comes next.

The betweens of the worlds. The gaps in mathematics.

There’s a wet crunch, and the man screams.

The walls shake. Something moves underground.

“Come out!” Joseph laughs hysterically. “Come to me!”

You don’t know if he’s talking to you, but you obey anyway. You have seen the human body unwound like a broken toy. Like a nightmare so beautiful it brings you to tears.

You know that when Joseph speaks, you listen. And you worship every word.

Joseph kneels before you. He says, “I want you to cum on my face.”

The motel room stinks of blood and burnt hair. Joseph has two faces and you love both. You grunt like an animal as you jerk yourself off, and he opens his mouth to offer you his tongue.

You finish with Joseph’s name trapped in your throat. You look at him, starry-eyed, and he licks his lips and kisses the base of your cock.

That night you sleep peacefully with Joseph in your arms. In the morning you drive while Joseph tries and fails to sing along to Michael Jackson. He remembers the chorus to _Smooth Criminal_ but forgets the rest, so he replaces the words with things he sees outside the window. You only spur him on with your laughter.

After a few hours you end up at the coast and Joseph makes you stop. You walk along the shore with him, holding hands. Above you the sky is clear except for a couple clouds on the blue horizon. You kiss Joseph and taste the salt of sweat and sea in his skin. He melts against you.

“Is it almost time?” you ask.

Joseph looks at you and smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> you fools! the cult ending is the most interesting part of the game! the only gay representation that’s ever made me feel something was the talented mr ripley. and marble hornets.


End file.
